


Blue Skies

by GoldenWaffles



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fear of Flying, Fluff, Flying, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Nicole Has the Patience of a Saint, Sometimes Angels are Afraid of Flying, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, waverly is nervous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenWaffles/pseuds/GoldenWaffles
Summary: Waverly and Nicole are finally,finallysetting off on their long-awaited honeymoon. After everything they've been through, it's finally time for them to start their life together. Only first, they have to brave the plane trip. And in spite of her winged heritage, Waverly hasn't ever flown before.Just a cute story of the ups and downs (pun intended) of their first flight together.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 24
Kudos: 195





	Blue Skies

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, this is (hilariously) a fic I started for one of the EFA challenges months ago (for the prompt "blue"). Obviously, I didn't finish it to my satisfaction at the time, but I still liked the concept, so I kept writing on it on and off since then, and let it sprawl a bit into what it is now. I have a tendency to write a lot of pre-relationship and early-relationship stuff, so I liked the idea of writing something in their future instead. May it help you survive the wait until S4.

“Do you want me to ask the pilot for some little wings for your first flight?” Nicole teased, her backpack slung over her shoulder as she led them confidently down the gate towards the plane.

“Ha ha,” Waverly grumbled, rolling her bloodshot eyes. A three-hour flight delay and an abysmal attempt at a vegan dinner via the airport’s food court, on top of a sleepless night… Well, suffice to say, it wasn’t quite the start she had imagined for their honeymoon.

And what had started out as her one consolation— Nicole’s rock-solid steadiness and unflappability— had gradually turned into her biggest frustration. Nicole didn’t seem to be bothered by _any_ of it. The delay, the bad food, the uncomfortable chairs, the stress— she just took it all immediately into stride, like it was _nothing_ , and it was making Waverly feel like a whiny child.

Because travel wasn’t new to Nicole. Scenic panoramas hung on her walls, international magnets clung to her fridge, and all kinds of photos and mementos were crammed into boxes in her closet.

But for Waverly, this would be the first time she had ever left the Ghost River Triangle (not counting dream worlds, Gardens, and other extra-dimensional excursions), and the thought of flying away from the only place she’d ever known… it left her heart fluttering and her stomach churning.

They hadn’t even left yet, and she was already homesick for their cozy bed and well-stocked kitchen.

As they stepped onto the plane, Nicole cheerfully greeting the flight attendants in passing, Waverly tried not to openly gawk at the plane’s enormous interior. Rows upon rows of seats stretched from one end of the plane to the other, until it almost resembled a flying movie theater more than the two neat little rows Waverly had imagined.

“It’s huge,” she murmured as Nicole confidently led the way down a narrow aisle, presumably towards their seats.

“The international ones always are. It’s good, though. Sort of. You don’t feel the turbulence as much as you do on small planes.” Nicole pointed at a row of seats and held her hands out for Waverly’s carry-on. She handed it over, and Nicole wedged it neatly into the overhead compartment.

“How many planes have you been on?” Waverly asked, suddenly curious. Nicole raised her eyebrows, then shook her head, laughing like the question itself was ridiculous.

“How _many_? I have no idea. Thirty, maybe? Forty?”

“ _Forty_?!” Waverly hissed, somewhere between incredulous and, for some reason, furious.

“I don’t know, maybe? I’ve never kept track.” Nicole sounded sheepish. “You sure you don’t want the window seat?”

They had discussed it before, but Waverly was nervous enough about the flight without being face-to-face with the open sky. She nodded, and Nicole slid into the row before her, tucking herself against the side of the plane and making a low, grumpy noise of disappointment as she sat down. Her long legs pushed the limits of the cramped space in front of her.

“That’s going to get old fast,” she said grimly. Waverly fell into the seat next to her and patted her thigh in consolation.

It actually made her feel a little better, that this new, unflappable Travel Nicole wasn’t immediately okay with _everything_.

“You can stretch them towards me if you need to.” Even her much-shorter legs didn’t have an _abundance_ of room, but she was visibly better off than Nicole.

The seat wasn’t roomy by any measure, but it was comfortable enough, and Waverly had spent the entire previous night tossing and turning in nervous anticipation. Now aboard the plane— and therefore _well_ past the point of no return— her anxiety and her exhaustion battled each other in her chest.

Tired but restless, she tugged at her clothes and shifted in her seat. She had cycled through about a dozen different outfits that morning, until Nicole— herself dressed in a speckled blue shirt under a blue hooded jacket— had gently intercepted her and advised her to just choose something comfortable, preferably with layers. That advice was clearly sound, since the plane’s interior was far too cool for Waverly’s liking, but the clinging weight of the clothes was starting to prickle, especially as other passengers continued filing onto the plane, making the huge interior feel crowded and close.

“You okay?” came Nicole’s voice from next to her, and Waverly turned to see her girlfriend— no, her _wife_ — looking at her with pure softness and concern. She forced a smile.

“Ask me again when we start moving.”

Nicole took a moment to rub a hand along the backs of her shoulders, chafing gently, until some of Waverly’s nervous energy left her in a long, tired sigh. Then, much to Waverly’s disappointment, she withdrew to instead go riffling through her backpack, looking for something.

While Nicole was occupied, a somewhat flustered-looking man appeared at the end of their aisle, checking the seat number against his ticket.

“Aha! Here it is,” he announced, cramming a small suitcase into the overhead compartment before taking the seat next to Waverly. “Hi,” he greeted.

“Hey,” she flashed him a friendly smile.

“Found it!” Nicole emerged from the backpack holding out a packet of gum. “For the takeoff.”

Waverly took it from her, one eyebrow creeping up uncertainly.

“For what?”

“It’s for your ears,” Nicole explained, and _for some reason_ assumed that was an adequate amount of information. Waverly looked at the gum, briefly imagined putting it in her ears, then rejected that possibility with a shake of her head.

“For _what_?” she repeated. Nicole opened her mouth to explain further, but the man now sitting in their row beat her to it.

“The cabin pressure makes your ears pop. Chewing gum helps,” he said, clearly happy to get to explain. Nicole looked mildly annoyed, but nodded her agreement.

“Oh. Okay…” she took a piece of the gum, offering a slightly embarrassed smile to both of them. “It’s my first time flying,” she explained to their new neighbor. He brightened instantly.

“No kidding? What’s the occasion?”

“I’m on my honeymoon.”

“Oh no, and they didn’t even let you sit with your husband? What a shame! I bet someone would switch seats with you if you asked.”

If Waverly had thought that Nicole had been annoyed by the lack leg room, that didn’t come _close_ to the fire in her eyes at _that_ little comment. Wickedly, Waverly bit back the urge to laugh. Nicole _hated_ it when people assumed they were just plain _gal pals_ , and that went double for _men_.

This man had done what hours of delays and inconveniences had not— he had _broken_ Travel Nicole.

Much to Waverly’s amusement, Nicole very deliberately took her hand from where it rested on the armrest, lacing their fingers together. She lifted both hands, showing off the matching rings.

“ _My_ _wife_ is exactly where she’s supposed to be. Thank you for your concern.” Her voice was acidic enough to eat through the plane’s hull, and the man withered instantly under her glare, suddenly babbling half-apologies. Nicole ignored him. After a few seconds, she released Waverly’s hand and instead wrapped her arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

Waverly grinned, even if the new position did kind of make the armrest dig into her side. It was still cute to watch Nicole being all possessive.

“S-sorry, I didn’t— um—”

Waverly decided to let him off the hook. They were about to spend a lot of time together, after all. She made a show of patting Nicole’s leg reassuringly and giving her a gently chiding look.

“It’s okay, it’s not—”

She was interrupted by the squawk of the PA system kicking on, and her smile faltered at the thought that this was it, they were about to take off. The pilot said a few words and the flight attendants gave a brief presentation about the seatbelts, and then there was just the last final minutes of _waiting_.

Waverly felt her blood pressure creep higher and higher with every passing second, and she gave a small gasp of panic when she felt the plane finally start to move.

“It’s alright,” Nicole whispered into her ear, pulling her in closer. “The plane will taxi for a minute or two, and then it’ll go up the runway and start to take off. It’ll feel a little like a roller coaster.”

She clutched Nicole’s hand tightly enough that she _had_ to be breaking something, but Nicole just squeezed back, murmuring soothing reassurances into her ear.

The plane circled a few times, and then seemed to pick an ultimate direction, picking up speed.

“Here we go,” Nicole said, just as Waverly felt her stomach dropping and the plane rising.

Waverly glanced out the window and saw the whole world tilted at a terrifying angle, the ground dropping out from beneath them. She immediately buried her face in Nicole’s neck, shutting it out as the strange weightlessness in her stomach intensified. Nicole’s arms wrapped around her and she let their familiar, sheltering presence ground her (so to speak). She was safe. Nicole was there. Nicole, who had been on _forty_ freaking planes and had survived all of them. Nicole, whose heartbeat was still slow and steady and calm, like there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

“We’ll level off any second,” Nicole’s soothing voice penetrated through the increasingly stuffy, aching feeling in Waverly’s ears, and she suddenly realized what they had meant about the gum. She pulled free of a startled Nicole’s grip just long enough to pop the gum into her mouth, chewing quickly. As her jaw worked and she swallowed, the pressure suddenly disappeared with a nearly audible _pop_.

“So that’s what the gum’s for,” she said, her voice _way_ shakier than she would have preferred. Nicole’s hands found hers and gripped loosely, both thumbs worrying over Waverly’s fingers.

“Yeah. You okay?”

The plane’s ascent did seem to be leveling off, and with it, the strange sensation in her stomach was easing. She could still see out the window, the ground impossibly far away and the clouds overhead impossibly close, but it was less scary now that the bizarre physical sensations had subsided. Nicole, following her gaze, reached back and pulled a cover down over the window, blocking out the disorienting view.

“Yeah… yeah, I think so.” Waverly shook her head, feeling silly for freaking out.

“Good. Just try and relax. We’ll touch down in Toronto in a few hours, and then we’re in for the long haul.” Nicole tugged her closer and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “You should try to sleep if you can. It’ll make the time go faster. And I know you didn’t sleep much last night.”

“I’m fine,” Waverly disagreed, the lingering adrenaline from the takeoff making her feel like she might never sleep again for the rest of her life.

But maybe Travel Nicole was right about these things, because the rest of the flight was downright _boring_ by comparison. Once the plane leveled off, it wasn’t all that different from being on a cramped, pressurized _bus_. Nicole’s fingers kept busy the entire way to Toronto, stroking her shoulders or combing through her hair, and Waverly couldn’t tell if it was to help calm her nerves or to keep their neighbor’s mouth shut. In both cases, it worked.

After all the earlier difficulties of the day, it seemed fitting that just as Waverly had settled enough to start drowsing against Nicole’s shoulder, the plane began to tip downwards. She could see what Nicole had meant about roller coasters— the way the drop seemed to leave her stomach behind and send her pulse climbing again as every one of her instincts told her that they were falling— but none of the dinky, rickety roller coasters that made their way to the Ghost River Triangle’s county fair had prepared her for this.

“It’s alright,” Nicole whispered again as Waverly clutched at her arm reflexively. Travel Nicole had the gall to _grin_ as they descended, like she was _enjoying_ the ride. “We’ll touch down in a second. Then we’ll have like an hour to stretch our legs before we take off again.”

Waverly was determined to make less of a fool of herself than she had during takeoff, but it took all her self-restraint to not burrow back into Nicole’s warm, blue, vanilla-scented shirt until they were safely back on solid ground. Nicole, annoying perceptive as always, must have sensed as much, because she resumed her whispered reassurances and held her tight as the plane slipped down and down and down out of the sky.

Ultimately, the touchdown was gentler than Waverly had expected, and she’d never been more relieved to be back on solid ground, where God and gravity clearly wanted them. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she felt almost lightheaded.

There was another wait then, until the PA buzzed back to life and began directing them to exit.

Their neighbor, who had barely dared breathe a word since Calgary, gave a sheepish wave and stuttered “Congratulations” before retrieving his carry-on and departing.

“Should we get off or stay on?” Waverly asked. Nicole shrugged.

“Whatever you want. We’d have to be back in like a half-hour anyway, but we can always try looking for some better food options here. We’d have to be fast, though. It’s a big airport.”

“So we might as well just stay, right?” Waverly guessed.

“We can,” Nicole said, her voice neutral. “We can still stretch our legs a little in the aisles, but we won’t have to re-board.”

Waverly sighed, neither option sounding terribly appealing.

“Let’s just do that, then.”

As expected, Travel Nicole was fine with this plan, as she was with all plans.

“Mind if I get up for a few minutes?” she asked, once the plane had mostly emptied out. For a second, Waverly wondered why she was asking permission, and then realized that there was absolutely no way for Nicole to get out without both of them moving. Waverly stood and let her into the aisle, accepting a playful kiss on the cheek as she passed.

Nicole paced their aisle for a few laps, then expanded her route to the front of the plane as well, where Waverly lost track of her. Alone in their row of seats, Waverly stretched a little, loosening up after a few hours in the same position.

But minutes passed, and Nicole didn’t reappear.

Waverly didn’t consider herself a clingy girlfriend— or _wife_ , now— but they were a _very_ long way from home, and she had just been through a _very_ stressful experience, and she _really_ wished that Nicole had stayed within reach. She had never in her life been farther from the Ghost River Triangle, and she craved a little piece of home.

It was nearly ten minutes before Nicole emerged back into their part of the plane, a plastic bag in hand. Waverly’s anxiety instantly turned into exasperation.

“You could have told me you were getting off the plane!” she said, irritated and relieved in equal amounts. Nicole, even Travel Nicole, had the grace to look sheepish.

“I didn’t!” she said quickly. “I was chatting with a couple of the flight attendants. I told them about everything that happened, with the delays, and the food, and one of them offered to help.” Nicole held up the bag.

Waverly found she didn’t have the energy to stay annoyed. She motioned her closer, and Nicole obeyed, closing the distance until Waverly could wrap her in a hug. The plastic bag was quickly abandoned on an empty seat so that Nicole could gather her up in her arms, and there it was— _home_.

“So what’s in the bag?” Waverly asked once she felt settled enough to pull away. Nicole picked it up and pulled out a plastic baggie holding some kind of sandwich.

“It’s just peanut butter and jelly, but they said they were sure it was vegan-friendly. And they gave me like five baggies of pretzels, which they assured me are also vegan. It’s not the greatest dinner in the world, but…” Nicole handed the sandwich over, then fished the pretzel bags out one by one and passed them along. Waverly felt a reluctant smile creeping up her face.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she said, looking down at her small bounty. But the bag still hung heavily in Nicole’s hand, and she shot it a curious look. “What else is in there?”

Nicole’s apologetic expression morphed into something a little more wolfish, and she tilted the mouth of the bag so that Waverly could see inside.

Inside the bag were about ten tiny travel-sized bottles of whiskey.

“They offered champagne, but…” Nicole trailed off, and Waverly nodded in fervent agreement. Waverly had never been a huge fan of bubbly to start with, even before the infamous Poker Spectacular, and the amount they had consumed over the past several days following their wedding… Well, suffice to say they were all champagne-d out for approximately the rest of their lives.

“Have I told you yet today how much I love you?” Waverly asked, and Nicole’s smile bloomed until her whole face was glowing with it. It had taken time— _far_ too much time— for Waverly to build up the confidence to say those words, but even now, it still seemed to make Nicole swoon every time.

“Today? Hm… not that I remember. Why don’t you tell me all about it?” Nicole murmured, leaning closer.

Waverly pulled her into the row, herself falling heavily back into the window seat and leaving Nicole in the middle.

“Isn’t that my seat?” Nicole challenged her. Waverly shrugged, unwrapping her sandwich. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“We can switch back before takeoff,” she claimed between bites. The sandwich wasn’t much, but it was a lot better than nothing. She made quick work of it, while Nicole stole the occasional pretzel from her bag.

“The takeoff and landing freaked you out,” Nicole observed once they had finished most of the snacks. Waverly tried to hold back an embarrassed flush in her cheeks.

“It felt really weird,” she said defensively. “I just wasn’t ready for it. I’ll be fine next time.”

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Nicole said, her voice gentle. Her hand was resting on Waverly’s thigh, and its warm weight was disproportionately comforting.

“Were you scared, your first time?” Waverly asked. Nicole hesitated before answering, clearly caught between her desire to say yes and her inability to lie. “God, you weren’t, were you?” Waverly groaned. Nicole laughed, although her eyes were apologetic.

“I was young. Five, maybe. I didn’t know any better. I thought it was fun, like a theme park ride.”

“Of course you did,” Waverly sighed. Even at age five, Nicole was Travel Nicole. It was all _very_ unfair.

Seemingly as an apology, Nicole offered her one of the mini-whiskeys from the bag. She accepted the peace offering and twisted the tiny cap off. She had emptied half of it down her throat before she had to cough, eyes watering as it burned its way down. It wasn’t _good_ whiskey, but she had _definitely_ had worse.

After two of the tiny bottles and plenty of reassuring touches, she found that she was actually feeling _much_ better about the whole flying thing. It seemed downright silly that she had been so nervous before. Nicole— _her wife_ — obviously wasn’t afraid, and wouldn’t ever have brought her onto the plane in the first place if it were dangerous.

Her exhaustion and her sated hunger and the warmth of the alcohol all combined into an overwhelming sense of lassitude. She snuggled against Nicole’s shoulder as people started to trickle back onto the plane. Her weary eyes rested themselves, and she breathed in the familiar vanilla scent while the minutes fell away uncounted. Nicole’s arm was wrapped around her back, and her hand stroked up and down Waverly’s arm in slow, languid motions.

The arm around her tightened just as Waverly felt the still-unfamiliar sensation of the plane moving, and she roused herself enough to realize that the plane was going to take off and that she was still in the window seat.

It was too late to change anything now, so she just leaned into Nicole’s side, squeezed her hand, and tried to brace herself as best she could.

The takeoff was less scary this time, whether because of the whiskey’s influence or because she now knew what to expect. She had lost track of the gum, but a wide yawn succeeded in popping her ears as they climbed higher and higher into the sky.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Waverly murmured, after they had leveled off. Nicole beamed at her with something like pride sparkling in her eyes, and it was the best thing to happen to her all day.

“See? You’re a natural,” Nicole praised. Waverly was pretty sure that was a _steep_ exaggeration, but she was sleepy and maybe a little past tipsy, and she had no intention of arguing, especially not while Nicole was running her fingers through her hair and smiling at her like that.

She must have drifted back to sleep soon after that, lost in the rhythmic caresses, because the next thing she knew, she was rudely awoken by the violent shuddering of the plane around them. She had never gone from asleep to awake so quickly in all her life.

“It’s okay, it’s just turbulence,” Nicole told her in a firm, calm voice, but Waverly was in _no mood_ for Travel Nicole right at that exact moment. They were god-knows-how-high in the sky, in a contraption made out of metal and jet fuel, and _something_ was _going wrong_.

“ _Just_ turbulence? This is _just_ _turbulence_?” she snapped. The plane lurched, and her heart stopped for the amount of time it took to stabilize again.

“It’s okay. Here, look, the trick is to watch the flight attendants.” Nicole pointed down the aisle, where two flight attendants were standing, chatting with each other. “They’re on these flights every day. If it were really bad, they have seats where they can strap it. As long as they’re not worried, you don’t need to worry either.”

One of the flight attendants braced against the door frame, but they were laughing at something the other was saying, as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

“They don’t look worried,” Waverly admitted. Travel Nicole nodded encouragingly.

“This is just some minor turbulence. Trust me, I’ve been through a lot worse. This is nothing to worry about,” she said. Waverly narrowed her eyes at her.

“My family is cursed, you know.” If anyone’s plane was going to fall out of the sky, it would be an Earp’s, and it would be fitting for it to happen on her honeymoon, on her first-ever trip away from home.

An indulgent smile graced Nicole’s face, and she leaned close.

“Half of your family has wings,” Nicole murmured in her ear, far too low for anyone to overhear. “Angels shouldn’t be afraid of flying.” She playfully scratched behind Waverly’s shoulders, where her theoretical wings would be. Waverly leaned over the armrest and let her head fall against Nicole’s chest, hoping to encourage the touch. The remnants of the alcohol had left her mind hazy and her skin sensitive, and Nicole’s fingertips tracing patterns into her back was _really_ hitting the spot.

It was even getting easier to ignore the plane shuddering beneath them, as their flying pattern seemed to smooth out again. Waverly snuck herself another mini-bottle of whiskey and nestled as close to Nicole as the armrests allowed, hoping that the rest of the flight would be _more boring_ , please and thank you.

When Waverly next peeled her eyes open, she could tell that a lot of time had passed. There was a jacket draped over her like a blanket, and Nicole’s shoulder felt hot against her cheek, like it had been pressed there for hours on end. She sat up a little, still blinking fuzzily, dry-mouthed and more sober than she had expected.

Nicole immediately closed the book she had been reading and turned her attention to her instead.

“Hey, cutie. Finally awake?” Nicole asked, reaching out to brush a few loose strands of hair away from her face. Waverly nodded, yawning.

“How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours. That’s good, though. We still have a long way to go. The best thing to do on a long flight is sleep if you can.”

“I think I needed it,” Waverly admitted. The sleep had been long overdue, and her nerves felt a lot steadier now than when they had started the journey. The jittery energy that had been gnawing at her all day had finally smoothed out, leaving her feeling more like herself.

“Well, we still have hours left. You can go back to sleep if you want. Or we can see what movies they have. Or we can—”

“What do you normally do? On long flights like this?” Waverly interrupted, rubbing her bleary eyes.

“I like reading,” Nicole said with a small shrug. “But if they have good entertainment options, I’ll look at them, too. And I always like just looking out the window and daydreaming.”

The window was still closed, in deference to Waverly’s anxiety, and she suddenly felt a pang of guilt about that fact. She reached out and began fumbling with the shade.

“You don’t have to—” Nicole started quickly, reaching out to stop her.

“No, it’s okay,” Waverly assured her, pushing her hand back. She felt braver now— steadier, better rested. A few hours of decent sleep, snuggled against the woman she loved, had apparently been just what she had been needing all day. Now, what she really wanted was to open the blind and face what she had been so afraid of only hours before. After all, it was her first flight, and she hadn’t even taken a good look outside yet. Maybe somewhere inside her, there was a Travel Waverly just waiting to burst into existence. “I want to see what’s outside.”

“There won’t be much to see now,” Nicole warned her. “We’re going to be over the ocean for a long time still.”

Waverly succeeded in pushing up the window blind, and she leaned close to the glass to peer outside.

Nicole was wrong.

There was _everything_ to see.

They were in the _sky_ , with bright blue above them and a sea of fluffy clouds below them, stretching out like piles of fresh snow. A whole landscape of white, under the startling brightness of the sky. They were flying.

They were _flying_. She had known that, obviously, but knowing it logically and seeing it with your eyes were two very different things.

Waverly watched in awe, her nose to the glass, as the layer of clouds thinned out, and underneath— far, _far_ below them— lay the darker blue of the ocean, spreading out in all directions, seeming to go on forever.

Blue above them.

Blue below them.

Blue as far as the eye could see.

She was starting to see why Nicole loved the color so much. And why she loved heights so much. And maybe even why she loved travel so much.

“So what do you think?” Nicole murmured, leaning close to look over her shoulder.

“I think… sometimes the things that scare me most… end up being the things I love the most.”

Nicole— her _wife_ — pressed a tender kiss to her cheek and then settled her chin on her shoulder.

And then, they both watched the endless blue unfold in every direction as they flew towards the rest of their life together.


End file.
